The Dream-Fulfilling Master of Konoha!
The Sword God of Konoha
The morning was still early, and Ichiraku Ramen felt unusually quiet without its usual stream of customers.
A rich, savory aroma of pork bone broth lingered in the air, curling lazily through the small shop, teasing the senses and making stomachs growl in anticipation.
Behind the counter, Teuchi—the soul of the ramen shop—stood busy as always, apron tied securely around his waist. His hands moved rhythmically, kneading the dough with the practiced precision of someone who had done this countless times. Each motion echoed with the steady, comforting sounds of the kitchen—the gentle slap of dough, the soft bubbling of broth, and the occasional clink of utensils.
Beside him, a black-haired, dark-eyed teenager worked quietly. Apron tied in the same neat fashion, he was meticulously washing dishes and wiping down the bar counter. His movements were swift yet methodical, clearly honed by experience.
That boy was Shiyu.
"Yo! Naruto!" Shiyu called out, his voice carrying easily over the quiet hum of the kitchen. He glanced toward the door, spotting the familiar spiky-haired blond. A teasing grin tugged at his lips. "I could hear your loud voice from halfway down the street. What's got you up this early?"
"Hehe! Shiyu-nii!" Naruto's face instantly lit up. He hopped onto the tallest stool by the counter, swinging his legs like an excited kid, grinning from ear to ear. "We're heading out on a mission today! Kakashi-sensei is treating us, so I'm gonna have the biggest, most deluxe miso chashu ramen ever!"
Grabbing a menu with the ease of someone who'd memorized every page, Naruto added, "Oh, by the way, where's Ayame-nee? Didn't see her today."
"Ah, Ayame-nee went out to restock," Shiyu answered while continuing to wipe down the counter.
In this entire village, Teuchi, Ayame, and the later-adopted Shiyu were among the rare few who never looked at Naruto with the slightest trace of prejudice.
Especially Shiyu. Not even once.
Back when the shop wasn't busy, Shiyu often sneaked away to hang out with Naruto, teaching him weird little games or simply listening as the boy poured out his frustrations—things he had no one else to tell.
That's why Naruto trusted him deeply.
Kakashi, Sasuke, and Sakura each found a seat as well, casually ordering their favorite bowls.
Kakashi asked for a simple miso ramen. Sasuke went with tomato ramen. Sakura, after a long internal battle between "maintaining her figure" and "it's free, Kakashi-sensei is paying", reluctantly settled for a lighter vegetable ramen.
"Got it! One supersized deluxe miso chashu, one miso, one tomato, one veggie coming up!" Shiyu jotted everything down with practiced ease before moving to the stove.
His hands moved like clockwork—boiling noodles, blending broth, arranging toppings—all while the fragrant steam rose around him, filling the air with warmth and mouthwatering smells.
He'd worked here for several years now, learning directly from Teuchi. While he wouldn't say he'd surpassed the master, he'd certainly inherited seven or eight-tenths of the craft.
"Man… back in the 21st century, I was a respected psychological counselor. Now look at me... reincarnated in the shinobi world, and the first skill I maxed out... is making ramen. What kind of twisted joke is this?"
Despite his inner grumbling, Shiyu's hands didn't falter for even a second.
Soon, four steaming bowls were placed neatly on the counter, each one radiating delicious heat and savory scents.
"Here you go, esteemed customers!" Shiyu announced, sliding the bowls over one by one.
"Whoaaa! Smells amazing!" Naruto practically drooled at the sight of his monstrous bowl, piled high with tender chashu pork, soft-boiled eggs, naruto swirls, bamboo shoots, and crispy seaweed.
Pressing his hands together in a cheerful clap, he declared, "Itadakimasu!"
Without wasting another second, he lifted the bowl—which was nearly as big as his face—and plunged right in, unleashing his signature "slurp hurricane" with enough noise to make heads turn, broth splashing everywhere.
"Ugh, Naruto, your table manners are disgusting," Sakura grimaced, scooting away slightly. Then, with an entirely different tone—soft and syrupy sweet—she turned toward Sasuke, "But look at Sasuke-kun… even the way he eats is so refined. As expected from the noble Uchiha heir."
Sasuke didn't even acknowledge her. With the composure of a prince, he elegantly picked up a small portion of noodles with his chopsticks, savoring it in measured, graceful bites.
Naruto glared up at that, his cheeks puffed full of noodles, and grumbled through the mouthful, "Mmmph... Stuck-up jerk... Ramen's meant to be eaten with big slurps, ya know!"
To prove his point, he slurped an exaggerated mouthful of broth, making sure the loud splash echoed just enough to irritate Sakura.
"Ugh, you idiot!" Sakura's forehead twitched, a vein visibly pulsing.
Kakashi, observing the trio with his usual half-lidded gaze, sighed quietly. "My stomach hurts just watching them..." he thought while silently continuing his meal.
But even as he ate, the visible eye above his mask flicked subtly toward Naruto—watching, analyzing.
The timing... seems about right.
Setting his chopsticks down, Kakashi leaned forward, adopting a casual tone that barely disguised the weight behind his words.
"So... Naruto."
"Mmh?" Naruto paused, looking up, lips still stained with broth.
Kakashi's single visible eye softened—just a little—as he asked, "Do you... remember what your parents looked like?"
"...Huh?"
Naruto blinked. His chopsticks froze mid-air.
The sparkle in his ocean-blue eyes dimmed. Like someone had drawn a curtain over a sunlit window, casting everything in a muted, gray light.
The lively clatter of the ramen shop seemed to fade. Even the savory steam curling from the broth felt a little heavier now.
Sasuke and Sakura stopped eating, glancing toward Kakashi, both caught off guard. Why... why would he ask that?
Naruto lowered his head, staring at the strands of noodles floating in his bowl. He sat there, quiet... as if the question had stirred something fragile.
"Ka-Kakashi-sensei... why... why would you ask something like that?" His voice was soft, uncertain... like someone fumbling in the dark.
Why's everyone acting so weird today...? First Sakura punches me for no reason... then Sasuke keeps looking at me funny... and now even Kakashi-sensei...
He bit his lower lip, fingers tightening slightly around his chopsticks. His words, when they came, were quieter... tinged with a sadness he tried desperately to swallow.
"My parents... how could I know what they look like... I..."
He paused, searching for something—an answer, a memory... anything—but came up empty.
Then, with a visible shake of his head, he forced a grin onto his face. It was a crooked, brittle thing... a smile stretched too thin, like paper about to tear.
"From as far back as I can remember... it's always just been me. I've... never seen them. Not even once."
Kakashi felt something twist sharply in his chest. His hand reflexively clenched the edge of the counter.
Damn... that was too direct. Too cruel.
"Ah... sorry, Naruto." His voice came out dry, rougher than intended. "I didn't mean anything by it. Just... slipped out."
"Eheh, it's fine!" Naruto shot back with his usual goofy grin, waving both hands like it was nothing. "I'm used to it! No point thinking about stuff like that. I don't even know who they were anyway. No use worrying! Ramen's more important! Hehe!"
But no matter how bright that grin was... Kakashi could see it. The hollow ache behind it. The way the boy's eyes, for just a moment, betrayed the kind of loneliness most people couldn't begin to understand.
Always smiling... always loud... But perhaps, that was Naruto's way of keeping the shadows at bay.
Lowering his head again, Naruto buried himself back into his ramen. Eat... just eat... Somehow, the warmth of the broth could fill that empty place better than words ever could.
Meanwhile, Kakashi's gaze darkened.
As I thought... He doesn't even know what his parents looked like. Which means... that dream last night... the face I saw... the voice I heard...
There's no way that was coming from Naruto's subconscious.
That realization crushed one of his previous assumptions completely.
Then...
Who... or what... had the power to recreate Kushina's voice and image so perfectly in my dream?
And more importantly... why?
The questions pressed down like gathering storm clouds, heavy and suffocating.
Behind the counter, Shiyu quietly continued tidying up, silently watching the entire scene unfold.
He noted the subtle shift in Kakashi's expression—the tightened jaw, the furrowed brow, the flash of wariness in those usually lazy eyes.
Tch... Not bad.
As expected from the man destined to become the Sixth Hokage. Former Anbu, Copy Ninja, Konoha's number one technician in the art of "50-50 odds." That intuition... that analytical sharpness... Truly impressive...
But...
Investigate all you want, Detective Kakashi. Even if you use that Sharingan of yours as a magnifying glass... you'll never find anything suspicious about a humble little ramen shop like this.
A sly, almost mischievous smirk tugged at the corner of Shiyu's mouth.
Kakashi's efforts... are destined to be in vain.
And so, a rather awkward breakfast came to an end.
Kakashi paid for the meal, still looking lost in thought.
Team 7's three young shinobi left with full bellies and boundless energy.
"See ya, Shiyu-nii! We're off!" Naruto patted his now rounded belly with satisfaction, puffing up proudly. "We've got an important ninja mission today! A super-cool, super-dangerous one that only real ninjas can handle! You just wait—I'll be back victorious! Hahaha!"
Watching him bounce with excitement like he was about to save the world, Shiyu chuckled and waved lazily. "Yeah, yeah. Take care out there."
Pfft... Dangerous mission, huh? More like chasing cats and pulling weeds...
But then... his gaze lingered on Naruto's retreating back.
And for just a moment... the usual amusement in his eyes softened into something deeper. Something quietly meaningful.
Still... today won't be a bad day for you, kid.
Because tonight...
You'll finally get to know...
What your parents really looked like.